


Circles in the Sand

by Chipper_Daily



Series: Bound [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fantasy Politics, Friends to Lovers, I mean, M/M, Post Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Rating will change, Selectively Mute Link, Slow Burn, Work In Progress, character death-ish??, fear not this will have a happy ending, feelings are hard when you're an emotionally stunned ass kicking murder machine, it IS botw, it ain't easy being queen, kind of graphic in later chapters, link/zelda tag is platonic, only one ship in these waters folks, or at least a mostly happy ending, tags and rating will be updated as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: When Zelda had first approached king Dorephan with her request to continue the research that had begun a century ago on the divine beasts Link had expected significant push back from the council of elders. So it was quite a surprise to find they were willing to lend assistance to the former Champion and the hylian princess without too much debate. Perhaps Link had impressed them that deeply when he first freed both Vah Ruta and Mipha’s spirit. Perhaps it was that Zelda’s request was for information gathering purposes only-For now.Because what is even the point of having access to ancient, nigh-indestructible, and pretty much unstoppable giant war machines if you don't have anyone to pilot them?





	1. Daydreaming

**Author's Note:**

> First off, this shouldn't exist. I don't even know what you're reading right now, tbh. From where I'm standing it looks like the headlong plunge into insanity that is a prequel to a silly, smutty one shot for an X-mas exchange that I very nearly didn't write that spiraled wildly out of my control. 
> 
> So... cheers?

 

_ “Everything has changed and yet, I am more me than I’ve ever been.” _  
__ Iain Thomas _ _

 

  
  
  


He had known of his link to the zora before he had remembered who the zora were.

Well, sort of.

It had been a steep learning curve, on so many fronts, once he had finally left the relative safety of the plateau.

Most obstacles he found some way of working around. He only needed to get his ass whooped by a moblin once to realize he should probably change up his ‘head on, hit first’ strategy. He discovered he could choke down pretty much _anything_ if he stuffed it in a roasted mushroom cap with enough herbs. His first Blood Moon had scared the living shit out of him, but outside of it being _the_ _rudest awakening of his life_ (at least the five or so days of it he could remember) he learned it wasn’t as big a deal as he had originally feared.

Even if Link had nothing else going for him, at least he was  adaptable.

So he could more or less get along just fine, even without a memory to his name, in pretty much every area except for  _ this.  _ It’s not like he even had any inkling beforehand about  _ what  _ an inconvenience it would wind up being while on the plateau.

When he had first emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection and stole what wound up being the king of Hyrule’s baked apple the words had come so naturally to him. He hadn’t even thought to question it when he gripped the warm treat in his teeth to free his hands to shape them.

In defense of his ignorance, it’s not like the old man had commented on it at the time. A look had flitted across his features- guilt, pity, Link didn’t know and frankly didn’t care- but had been smoothed away before the freshly awakened boy could read too much into it. The king had no problem understanding his words, and Link hadn’t thought it strange that one of them spoke with their lips and the other with their hands.

But, apparently, it was pretty strange after all. It seemed the only beings he could successfully communicate with were cocking  _ ghosts.  _ (Did koroks count as ghosts? They were spirits, right?)

He managed to get by with the few soft noises he could coax out of his throat and some exaggerated gesturing. Occasionally he’d have to resort to writing in the dirt, but he made it work and that’s what mattered. It was frustrating at times and, if he were being honest, rather lonely. Most of the people he met on his path were kind and often made room for him to join them by their campfire, but he was getting rather sick of being  _ pitied.  _ Of the disheartened  _ “Oh.” _ and that damned  _ look  _ people would give him when they told him they didn’t understand. Like he was something broken.

(To be fair, it turned out that Link  _ was  _ something broken, or at least had been,  just much more literally then what the average hylian backpacker probably assumed.)

So when he rolled into Dueling Peaks Stable for the first time and one of the stable hands mentioned they had another guest like him, well, how could he help but get excited? Finally, someone he could  _ talk  _ to.

She had been lovely, Fara. His heart had soared with relief when her fingers had shaped the letters instead of the usual  _ “Oh. I’m sorry. Um…”  _  It was a memory he still treasured years later.

It was also the first time he (re)learned there was more than one sign language. They managed to understand each other for the most part, but it had been both exciting and strange to see the words he knew so intimately shaped… differently. She was a gerudo and, like every other aspect of their proud culture, her gestures were strong, bold. Her fingers cut though the evening air with authority, with  power , each word firm and solid in her hands. His fingers flowed in return, never still, one word elegantly rolling into the next to shape his sentences in a gentle, steady stream.

They talked deep into the night, deft hands illuminated by the cozy fire where they sat by the cooking pot. Fara had been born with a voice but lost it in an attempted robbery that went sideways. She and her husband had been travelling merchants and one night a couple of bandits got the jump on them. They were no match for a trained warrior such as Fara, but one had gotten lucky and plunged his blade deep into her neck. She considered it a miracle she escaped with her life. However her husband left her not long afterwards, her muteness too much a burden for him to bear. At the time it had been devastating but in truth it had been for the best. Here she had paused in her tale to give Link a wry grin. Tragedy brings out a person’s true colours.

To which Link had simply responded  _ -Good riddance to bad rubbish- _

She had laughed at that, throwing her head back to release a rough, rasping sound and reveal a jagged, ugly scar hidden beneath the elegant silk scarf she kept wrapped around her neck. But in the flickering firelight her white hair sparkled and her face was kind, lined with a lifetime of laughter. Link couldn’t help but think how foolish her husband had been to walk away all those years ago over one silly little scar.

Link had many, many scars. Stark reminders of hard lessons his mind had forgotten but his skin would carry forever.

Listening to Fara describe her brush with death, the way her gaze hardened and lips tightened as she watched sparks dance up to lick at the starry sky, made his own scars itch beneath his threadbare clothes. For the first time since he’d awoken he wondered if perhaps his amnesia was a blessing in disguise.

_        -You must be getting bored watching an old lady prattle on-  _ She gave him a soft, encouraging smile.  _ -What is your story, boy?- _

Link scratched the back of his neck, oddly embarrassed, and debated what he should say. That he was the long lost hylian champion, freshly resurrected from the dead and ready to take another crack at Calamity Ganon?

... she would think he was a lunatic.

_        -There’s not much to tell-  _ He shrugged sheepishly and busied himself with checking the mushroom skewers he’d propped up to roast over the fire. Fara eyed him skeptically as he poked at his dinner.

He knew he must have been quite a sight. A half-feral mute coated in mud, blood, and Hylia-only-knows-what stumbling in, armed with a chattering stal arm and an  _ absurd  _ number of apples, dropping a hefty chunk of amber on the counter for the stunned stable hand and promptly flopping onto the nearest unoccupied bed like a dead thing apparently generated gossip around these parts.

_        -I just find it a bit strange-  _ Fara signed slowly once she was sure she had the blond’s attention again.  _ -You’re a hylian, yet you speak like a zora-  _ She gave him a quick once over.  _ -Where did you come from, boy?- _

Link would like to say that there was some sort of recognition then, that he felt a tug in his gut or his heart clench when he first saw her shape the letters. It would have been fair, it would have been  _ right _ , considering what a profound impact his years among the zora had on his life before the Fall, before failure and fire and  _ death _ .

But he felt nothing, so he just shrugged again and plucked his skewer up from the fire- a modest dinner for a lonely drifter.

_        -I came from the forest- _

~*~

A sigh escaped Link’s lips in a small puff of fog, his feet kicking idly over the cold stone ledge he’d plunked down on after finally giving up on trying to follow what Purah was prattling off to her assistant. As least he wasn’t alone in his confusion, if the panicked look in Symin’s eyes as he frantically jotted notes was anything to go by.

The burnt remains of Hyrule Castle loomed in the distance, cold and still, blackened stone blurred and painted in hues of orange and gold through the mist in the waning hours of daylight. Silent as it had been every day since the defeat of Calamity Ganon.

It was still so strange to think that after everything that had happened it was… over. The age-old roles of Hero and Princess and Monster fulfilled until the next turn of a cycle that stretched on and on until, well, frankly he didn’t want to think about it. It felt... strange to be sitting on the other side of that battle.

       “Master Link,” His ear flicked at the sound of his name as he turned to fix their escort with a lazy look. “We should pack up and head back to the campsite, sir.”

He nodded to show he’d heard the zora as he hopped to his feet and quickly brushed the dirt off the seat of his pants. Once he figured he was decent enough he strode briskly towards their guard and turned to face where Zelda’s small team of sheikah specialists had clustered near the base of the towering divine beast.

Vah Ruta’s massive head and back were completely obscured by thick mist, the ancient war machine as cold, dark, and silent as the castle. Just as it, and the other three divine beasts, had been every day since the defeat of Calamity Ganon. Where the stillness of the castle filled him with a kind of weightless, airy relief (and a muted terror that would overtake him sometimes late at night, but that was neither here nor there), this silence left him with a cold, heavy lump deep in his chest.

The smell of rain hung heavy in the dusk air. Link frowned up at the sky- showers tended to blow in quickly around these parts. He just hoped they’d make it back to the tents before the skies decided to open up. He brought his hands to his mouth to let loose a clear, sharp whistle. The three researchers turned slowly to give him a bewildered look as he raised both hands so they could see clearly.

_        -Time to pack up- _

He playfully rolled his eyes when Purah stuck her tongue out at him.

_        -Have fun finding your tent in the dark then-  _ He didn’t bother waiting for her reply as he turned his attention to their escort.  _ -Think we’ll make it before it starts raining?-  _ He signed calmly, head tilted with eyebrows raised in mock innocence as he blatantly ignored the indignant accusation of his cruelty wailed sharply in the voice of a child from behind him.

       “Ah…” Bright gold eyes flicked over his face, hesitance obvious in Torfeau’s expression before a resigned look washed over her and she visibly decided to drop it. Her gaze swept up to squint at the sky instead, her sleek black scales shimmering in the dying light. “Hmm. Obviously the sooner we head out the better, but we should at least make it past the trickiest stretch before it starts raining in earnest.”

_        -You think the storm will be a bad one?-  _ His question was met with a knowing look as she lightly tapped the side of her crest.

       “I know it will.” She turned away with a small, teasing smile and headed towards the narrow path that had been hewn into the slick, crystalline rock face. “Needless to say, I believe I’ll be first watch tonight, master Link.”

When Zelda had first approached king Dorephan with her request to continue the research that had begun a century ago on the divine beasts Link had expected significant push back from the council of elders. It was a pretty inescapable fact that if they hadn’t disturbed the ancient technology in the first place the zora would still have their beloved princess  _ (Dorephan would still have his treasured daughter, Sidon his precious sister, and he, and Link would have his-) _  So it was quite a surprise to find the elders were willing to lend assistance to the former Champion and the hylian princess without too much debate. Even Seggin gave his approval with relatively minimal grumbling. Perhaps Link had impressed them that deeply when he first freed both Vah Ruta and Mipha’s spirit. Perhaps they didn’t see much point resisting with the support of both their king (cautiously) and crown prince (enthusiastically) already behind the hylians. Perhaps it was that Zelda’s request was for information gathering purposes only (for now). Perhaps they felt pity for the princess of a broken and divided kingdom, and this was their small way of throwing her a bone. Either way they had secured both permission to approach the sealed beast and a local guard with extensive knowledge of the Ruto Mountain range.

Admittedly Link had been a bit skeptical at first, the aquatic race was hardly built for mountaineering, but the ambitious young soldier proved to be surprisingly talented in the scaling cliffs department. Sure, zora were powerfully built, all lean muscle and broad shoulders (and abs for  _ days _ , not that he was looking), but he hadn’t been in a position to really appreciate what kind of ridiculous upper body strength they possessed until he witnessed Torfeau literally hurtle her way up the sheer rock face leading to Ruta’s lofty perch. With the rigging material they were going to use to bring the researchers and their supplies up and down from the divine beast strapped to her back. She clearly wasn’t even winded when she reached the top as she leaned over the slick cliff face to wave down to him in that enthusiastic, over head way that made her whole body kind of wiggle. He assumed the waggle-wave was just a zora  _ thing _ considering how often he found himself greeted in a similar fashion, from the kids that played beneath the gentle gaze of Mipha’s memorial, to his childhood friend Kodah, to prince Sidon.

And Link had just gawked up at her, like an asshole, with an apple frozen halfway to his mouth (to be fair he had thought her climb would take a lot longer). Not that he was jealous or anything.

(Until it was his turn to climb up the crystalline blue rock face. As he clung, legs spread awkwardly on tenuous footholds and sweating like a pig with his left hand groping blindly above him in search of a stable grip, he had to admit that yes, maybe he was just a bit jealous.)

Good thing it hadn’t started raining then. Their expedition to the isolated resting place of the divine beast had begun under wide blue skies and clear birdsong. It certainly wasn’t ending on the same note. By the time the small crew finally made it back to their modest encampment it was  _ pouring. _

As soon as they had reached even ground the trio of scientists ran for the relatively dry sanctity of the tents. They had their copious notes, drawings, and meticulous measurements of Vah Ruta and the other beasts to worry about. The oiled leather that bound the papers together wasn’t nearly as effective as their traditional sheikah garb at keeping it’s contents dry and warm.

Neither was Link’s meager hood and warm doublet, his hylian clothes much more suited for the cold then the rain. The sensation of icy water soaking his scalp and running down his back unpleasantly reminded him of his first foray into zora territory a bit more than two years previously. While the thick wool of his old doublet was perfect for the spring chill as soon as it got wet it tended to chafe pretty bad. Between the scrambling over uneven rock and intermittent climbing to get down from Ruta’s lofty perch he was sure the back of his neck and armpits were raw, even with the softer cotton of his tunic underneath. They wouldn’t be able to get a fire going and he certainly didn’t have anywhere to hang his clothes, so it looked like he would be slogging around in soggy clothes tomorrow. Ugh. 

Torfeau, completely unfazed by the shitty weather, had the audacity to start humming a jaunty little tune as she took her position to guard the camp.  _ Ugh. _

He couldn’t wait to get back to the Domain proper. If the blissful water bed at the Seabed Inn had a face he would kiss it. He sunk down onto the spongy soft earth at the mouth of the tent he shared with Symin and internally groaned at the water that ran out of his boot once he tugged it off his foot. If Kayden’s family secret blend spiced tea had a face he would make love to it.

Symin didn’t even look up from where he was hunched over the lantern frantically flipping through the damp pages of his journal to check that his notes weren’t too badly damaged. They were scheduled to make their way back to Zora’s Domain in the morning to restock and share any pertinent findings with the king and council. They unfortunately didn’t have much time to linger before heading on to convene with Robbie in Akkala and part ways with his wife, Jerrin, who had happily trekked all over Hyrule and lent her expertise in the field of ancient shrines in her elderly husband’s place. From there Link would escort Purah and Symin up to Vah Rudania before heading back to Castle Town. Due to a couple of setbacks at the beginning of their expedition their timeline was pretty tight- Zelda hoped to have him present for the festivities on May Day. Which ideally meant they would need to arrive a couple of days in advance to give the princess and the two sheikah researchers ample time to discuss their findings. If the notes on Vah Ruta had been ruined the pair very likely wouldn’t be able to return to the divine beast again until late autumn, at the earliest. The restoration efforts at Castle Town took precedence over all else, and late spring through summer was prime construction season.

Link peeled off his soggy doublet, wrung out what he could and laid it out on the ground near Symin’s bulky jacket, careful not to touch the heavy canvas wall of the tent. The last thing they needed in this weather was a leak. (Well, more leaks.) His unceremonious flop onto his bedding is what finally startled the older sheikah to look up from his notes. Realization swept over Symin’s features and he lunged to pop open the front of their little lantern before Link stopped him with a tired shake of his head. One time he slept through a blood moon… in a boko camp. He hadn’t stirred until a big old silver with a grudge and a dragonbone club hit him so hard he bounced when he landed. A little candlelight certainly wasn’t going to disturb his rest.

Back then he had the unrelenting weight of a duty unfulfilled pressing down on him, constantly gnawing at his conscience whenever he lingered anywhere longer than was strictly necessary. He also didn’t have the luxury of a safe place to sleep each night, being technically homeless until he could afford the old place in Hateno and all. So when the sheer exhaustion finally won out over his stubbornness and he did get around to sleeping, sweet Hylia, he had _slept_. Bludo still liked to joke about how poor Volcon had thought he’d straight up killed the petite hylian with the force of his massage after Link had freed Vah Rudania. Link didn’t need the reminder. He clearly remembered waking up in his underwear with his arms crossed over his chest and some sort of white cloth covering his face while Trey tried to comfort his overwrought husband and argue with the gerudo Ramella about hylian funerary rights at the same time. Also he was on _fire._

Sleep didn’t come to him as easily now as it did back then. Perhaps he just had too much spare time to get lost in his own head. It’s why he still refused to retire, even with Zelda’s subtle (and not so subtle) reaffirmations that he had done more than enough and deserved to take it easy. He also refused to leave the monumental task of rebuilding the kingdom to her alone.

The princess had no room to chide him about pushing himself too hard, she had done more than him by far. She had literally burned through the power of a bloody Goddess for a hundred long years keeping the denizens of Hyrule safe from the King of Evil. All Link had done was roll in a century late and rely too heavily on a sword instead of a plan.

Though if Link was being honest he found it much easier to sleep with a little light. To the point he had caved and added small stained glass lanterns to his bedside table in both his Hateno home and his quarters in Zelda’s grand hall. Not that he’d admit it to anyone- the notion of the master to the legendary Blade of Evil’s Bane facing down the raw fury of Calamity Ganon but still being scared of the dark was beyond ridiculous. It was one of the reasons he preferred to sleep outside when he could get away with it, the natural world was rarely pitch black, silent, or stagnant.

_ Dead.  _ His mind helpfully supplied.  _ Like a tomb. _

_ Shut up.  _ He internally replied.

Externally he squirmed under the thick felted blanket and soft fur of his bedroll until it was, quite literally, a bed  _ roll _ . With only his eyes and nose exposed to the cool, damp air, he focused on the soothing sounds of thick paper softly rustling and rain pattering on canvas and the flickering dance of light and shadow on the walls.

Tomorrow they would return to Zora’s Domain.

That was something to look forward to at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Real talk, Mipha is a GOD-TIER mech pilot. How did she even GET Vah Ruta up to that god forsaken plateau anyway??
> 
> 2) Sorry for the slow start, things will pick up plot wise soon. Snug Link just felt like a cozy place to cut for the first chapter. (Also sorry for the lack of fish prince, his royal dorkness will make his debut next chapter.)
> 
> 3) I tried SO HARD to post this on Friday the 13th, but once I finish tweaking the formatting to look like, well, not hot garbage on this site I feel I will have missed my mark ಥ_ಥ
> 
> 4) I'll update as frequently as I can, but I can't guarantee a posting schedule. My life is pretty hectic rn, but I'll try my best to churn this out asap!
> 
> 5) **Update** I realized I should probably attach the other fic that inspired this one... it's definitely not a MUST read (really, it's just straight-up porn) and it takes place way later in the story, so, yeah, if you decide to skip it you're not missing anything plot relevant.
> 
> 6) Thank you for reading! I hope y'all have a lovely day~


	2. Dear River

It had been the Big Bad Bazz Brigade that had first introduced him to the zora’s elegant language of the water long, long before he ever thought he’d come to rely on it. Before the unyielding weight of Prophecy crushed the breath from his lungs and strangled the voice from his throat.

He had been fascinated with the idea of an unspoken language and his group of friends had been tickled pink by the novelty of being able to _teach_ it. All zora learned it in infancy alongside the spoken language used on the surface. They were more interested in showing him the important words, like _‘armpit’_ and _‘fart’_ , then the basics of grammar and spelling, but at least it was a start.

The zora were, and had always been, a deeply communal race. The joys and sorrows of each was readily shared by all. _‘Many hands make light work’_ was a common zora saying, and this went doubly when it came to raising their children. So it didn’t take long once Link had begun to show interest in their language to start receiving proper lessons from the adults around him. Even the princess was happy to spare a moment in her busy day to gracefully kneel and correct his clumsy fingers.

He could remember, faintly, his stunned awe as he watched her walk away, his small zora friends running and laughing and only pausing in their silly games long enough to give their crown princess an informal wave. He remembered being struck by just how _different_ it was from the hylian royal family, with their formal processions and stone faced guards that lined the streets to make certain all and sundry kept their distance and paid the proper respect. He remembered how his heart had fluttered like a butterfly trapped beneath his ribs as she raised her hand and waved back with a musical chuckle, how her intricate jewelry sparkled under the midday sun, remembered warm eyes as sweet as honey.

He hadn’t been anything to her then, not Hero, not Champion, or friend (or lover?). Just a curious child from a distant land, short lived and inconsequential, yet she still took it upon herself to make him feel welcome.

It was his earliest memory of her, of Mipha, and he was certain he loved her even then.

~*~

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until Symin was gently shaking him awake.

Needless to say he spent the first few moments of the day in one of his least favourite ways: Circling his fist over his chest over and over with one hand and gently encouraging Symin to tilt his head forward with the other to help with the nosebleed.

       “Don’t apologize,” The sheikah managed to choke out through the pain, “I think that was my fault.” His voice was muffled through the pillow Link had thrust into his hands to catch the initial gush of blood. It was the least he could do after viciously elbowing the unarmed man square in the face. This was also why he had slept outside for most of their time in zora territory- Torfeau at least knew to use the butt of her spear to prod him awake.

Come to think of it, the black scaled zora hadn’t woken him for the second watch.

Once he was certain the bleeding had mostly stopped and he hadn’t done any permanent damage to the poor assistant's nose he poked his head out of the tent to make sure everything was alright outside. Small streams of water trickled from where they had pooled on the taut canvas the night before, jostled by the sudden movement. Glistening droplets saturated the grass and trees around their small site, sparkling in what thin light could break through the heavy grey clouds hanging low in the sky. At least it wasn’t raining. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in a puff of fog and mentally corrected himself. At least it wasn’t raining _yet._ Even with Vah Ruta’s fury calmed it seemed like this land was plagued by unending rain.

He may grumble, but in all honesty zora territory  was probably his favourite place explore. The landscape was so _different_ here. Jagged peaks carved from ethereal blue stone buffed by the winds and polished to a shine by frequent rain and the tall, twisted bushes in shocking colours peppered amongst the more common flora gave the area an otherworldly feel. And as much as he griped about the constant rain, there was no smell better than rich, heady wet earth and fresh greenery after the storm.

Except for maybe bacon.

He tilted his head back and sniffed the cool air.

… Someone was definitely cooking bacon.

His attention snapped to two familiar figures crouched near the edge of the little clearing. It seemed Jerrin and Torfeau had managed to get a fire going and had put their big old cast iron pot to good use.

Yeah, Link wanted to get in on that.

He ducked back into the tent to throw on his damp doublet and check on Symin, who had taken off his glasses to gingerly survey his swollen nose in the reflection of his lenses. Link waited for the older man to look up before pointing in the direction of the cooking pot, quickly miming eating off a plate and tilting his head to imply it was a question. While Symin knew some rudimentary sign he was far from fluent. For the grand majority of their journey the only one he could carry on a conversation with was Purah. That was another reason he enjoyed dipping into zora territory so much- the aquatic race relied almost entirely on sign language to communicate underwater, so they considered it unusual to _not_ understand sign instead of the other way around.

       “No thank you,” Symin shook his head, his eyes still a bit red rimmed from how much they were watering earlier. “I’ve neber been the bregfast type.”

Link winced and automatically circled his fist over his chest  before Symin waved him off.

He greeted the two woman with a small smile and a warm little wave in response to their chimes of ‘good morning’ as he strolled up to check the contents of the cooking pot. The shift in role from bystander to chef was automatic and unspoken. Jerrin leaned back from crouching by the pan to recline more comfortably on the ground and watch as Link tugged over their ration bag by a strap and began pawing through their supplies to see what he could add.

He didn’t bother to look up when a shadow loomed over his shoulder to watch what he was doing, only pausing in his task of ripping the fragrant leaves off the stem of a Hyrule herb long enough to poke the offending shadow just beneath her sensitive gills. Torfeau flinched back with an offended gasp, more surprised than hurt by the sudden jab. Link laid the fresh leaves on his lap before fixing the zora guard with a flat look.

_-What happened to second watch?-_

       “Ah, well, honestly I was waiting for the rain to let up a bit, sir. I know it bothers you a lot more than it bothers me.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Turns out it didn’t stop until it was pretty much time for us to be getting up anyway. I don’t mind or anything, we zora don’t need as much sleep as you hylians do.” Torfeau’s expression shifted from sheepish to teasing, mirth making her bright amber eyes sparkle wickedly. “Besides, I figured you’d appreciate the extra beauty sleep. Wouldn’t want your adoring fans to see you with bags under your eyes.”

Link turned away with a huff and ducked his head so his hair would cover the red he was sure was flushing his cheeks. His… _fans._ Right.

_-No bacon for you-_

       “That’s fair, I already ate anyway.” Torfeau laughed lightly.

That mess had begun about a season after the fall of Calamity Ganon when he had accompanied Zelda to Zora’s Domain.

He had been lost in thought, waiting near the base of Mipha’s memorial for the diplomatic meeting to wrap up in the throne room. Prince Sidon had extended the offer to take both Zelda and Link on a quick tour of his home and the surrounding area before the banquet once they had finished with their talk. While Link certainly knew his way around the Domain already he figured it would be good for the princess. Their world had changed so much since she had last been free to roam across it, and not for the better. Where the plains of Hyrule Field had once been flush with life they were now mostly barren, a quiet testimate to a past of horror. In comparison Zora’s Domain stood strong, the ancient city unchanging and seemingly eternal. Here there were still people who knew her from before. It would be good for Zelda to see not all she had known had fallen to ruin.

Besides, Sidon was an easy person to spend time with. He found himself looking forward to catching up with the outgoing zora.

His thoughts had been interrupted by the soft voice of a child. When he looked down he was met with a flailing bright eyed crab being thrust up at him by a little zora who’s milky pale face was flushed almost as red as their scales.

       “I-we caught this for you, Mr. Champion.” The little one managed to squeak out before bowing in an awkwardly formal manner. “We, um, we would be honoured if you would accept it!”

He had gingerly taken it, unsure of what exactly the child expected him to _do_ with a live crab but not wanting to hurt the little one’s feelings.

       “Uh…” He licked his lips and eyed the crab as it waved it’s claws threateningly in his hands. “Thanks?”

       “Thank you!” The words had rushed out of the young zora before their little golden eyes popped open in horror. “I mean, you’re wel-” They stopped mid-sentence, their small hands coming to cover their flushed, chubby cheeks before they released a high sound not unlike a whistling kettle and _ran._

They didn’t go far- just to join two other children near the opposite side of Mipha’s statue. While he hadn’t been able to overhear what they were saying the way the other two danced around the little red zora and the excited whispering was familiar in a way that left a strange, sinking feeling in his gut. He’d seen this behaviour before- aimed at the zora’s own handsome prince. His gaze drifted back down to the bright eyed crab. This did not bode well.

So that was how the zora prince and hylian princess found Link awkwardly holding an angry crab at the base of Mipha’s statue. Once he had finished haltingly explaining the situation as well as he could with his embarrassingly rough, quiet voice (he had to- the offending crustacean would snip into whatever it could get it’s little pincers on if he didn’t hold it at arm's length) Sidon honest-to-Goddess _laughed_ at him, one huge crimson hand flying up to splay beneath his decorative silver whistle with a heavy thunk.

Link took a moment to feel betrayed- he had expected Zelda’s light-hearted teasing, but if there was anyone who should have been sympathetic to his plight it was _Sidon._

       “Ah, forgive me, my friend, I shouldn’t laugh. It was a very sweet gesture.” He took a moment to smooth out his cravat, quickly slipping back into proper composure. “One better suited to the kitchens than a conversation partner, I believe. If you’ll excuse a brief delay to our walk I shall take it there at once.” He held out his hand for the burdensome gift, bright golden eyes still warmth with mirth. “May I?”

It was the first time he’d heard Sidon genuinely and whole heartedly laugh. It was a bit unfortunate that it was at Link’s expense, but the prince did have a wonderful laugh.

It suited the wonderful _everything else_ in Sidon’s aggressively attractive Goddess-blessed life. Not that Link was looking.

(Well, ok, maybe sometimes he was. In his defense it did seem like a pretty common pass time for locals and tourists of the Domain alike. The prince was just… _unfairly_ handsome. The zora race had never really gotten behind the whole ‘modesty’ thing, so just _everything_ was on blatant display _all the time_ and, for Hylia’s sake, poor Link was a mere mortal with _eyes._ Of _course_ he’d looked.)

Since then he’d received a handful of small gifts from the little trio who he later learned had taken to calling themselves the Hylian Appreciation Guild. Or H.A.G. for short, despite the fact that if they really knew anything about the people they were supposedly appreciating, they would know that no hylian would ever willingly, let alone proudly, describe themselves as a ‘hag’.

He wasn’t offended by them or anything. They were harmless enough, he just didn’t really know what to _do_ when they approached him.

What _was_ offensive was how quickly the oldest friends he had left in this world had taken to using his fan club as ammunition to tease him. He was still trying to figure out which was the bigger gossip, Bazz or Rivan, but one of them had spread it to almost the entirety of the zora guard. Because that just seemed to be Link’s lot in life. And of course the only person he knew who had any experience in the wrangling-fans-with-dignity-and-grace department was entirely unhelpful. Sidon reacted with nothing short of utter delight whenever the subject of Link’s little hag issue came up. If the prince found it so charming he should just join the damn thing. (No, no he absolutely shouldn’t, Link would curl up on the elaborate marble floor and _die._ )

So he accepted the small gifts and awkward fawning as graciously as he could and otherwise tried to avoid the young trio.

(It took months to finally get Sidon to confess that this was his basic fan club strategy as well.)

The trip back to Zora’s Domain took a bit longer than Link would have liked but was otherwise mostly uneventful. The monsters that had once plagued the path had either been cleared out by zora soldiers or Link himself after the Calamity had been sealed away, or had retreated deeper into the wilds, no longer so bold without the dark power of the Blood Moon to revive them from death.

Torfeau split off from the group once they reached the land bridge jutting out over Lake Ruto to go ahead and announce their arrival to the city guards. She moved to the edge of the path with a slight skip in her step and looked back to give Link a small salute before diving off the edge to disappear into the churning waters below with barely a ripple. Link had to swallow down the overwhelming urge to dive off the edge into the swirling water after her. Without his zora armor he’d probably drown. Pity. Looked fun.

Perhaps he was also becoming less bold without the safety of Mipha’s Grace if things went really sideways.

He hadn’t exactly tested whether Mipha’s gift was still with him or not. To be fair literal death wasn’t something he could really bounce back from if it turned out her gentle healing power had faded. Well, okay, he had before and if worse came to worse he could, in theory, again. The Shrine of Resurrection was still there. The hundred year snooze and subsequent amnesia was something he’d rather not repeat though. Especially not when it felt like his life had finally, _finally,_ reached some semblance of normalcy. A feat in and of itself considering he only had snippets of his previous life and a couple months of panicked blundering to try and build off of. He did know for certain that the other three champion’s gifts were silent when he tried to call upon them, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume Mipha’s would be the same.

That was a good thing- the souls of his old comrades could finally rest in peace. They had more than earned it.

(He knew it was a good thing, it just didn’t _feel_ very good. The void left in his chest where their final gifts had once burned bright ached like a scar hidden beneath his skin.)

If he’d had any doubt of either a zora’s speed through the water or a rumor’s speed through Zora’s Domain it was put to rest by the time they passed through the ethereal glowing arches of the Great Zora Bridge leading into the Domain proper. It was obvious Torfeau had already passed word onto the guards by the easy way Rivan waved from his post and poor Dunma rolled her eyes at her father’s embarrassing antics from hers. It was also obvious that word had passed quite a bit further than just the guards, as it seemed an unusual number of zora had “coincidentally” wound up having business to attend to on the main promenade around the exact time the hylian champion and princess Zelda’s team of sheikah experts just happened to be arriving.

There was one who wasn’t pretending to be there for any other reason beyond greeting the team though.

Link bit back a grin at the way Sidon quickly preened himself, picking at and smoothing out a sash that was already immaculate as far as Link could tell. It was rare to see the prince flustered- he must have been interrupted from some other task and, ever the gracious host, had hurried to meet them at the arch. The moment passed with Sidon drawing himself up to his full, impressive height and drawing his shoulders back to clasp his hands behind his back.

       “Welcome to our fair Domain, I do hope the weather hasn’t been too great a hindrance to your studies! The inn has already been prepared for your arrival. Come, you must be weary from your travels.” Sidon turned to the black scaled zora. “Rivan, if you would be so kind?” The guard snapped to attention and and offered to take their bags.

He was politely declined by the three sheikah (well, two sheikah- Purah had already foisted her bags onto poor Symin) only to find Link had shrugged off his pack and was offering it up with a quirked eyebrow. Rivan huffed softly and silently mouthed _‘brat’_ as he easily swung the bag over his shoulder with one hand and affectionately ruffled his childhood friend’s damp hair with the other. Link couldn’t fight his grin as he swatted the teasing zora’s hand away. He quickly raked his fingers through his bangs to get them out of his eyes and looked up in time to meet Sidon’s gaze. The memory of Zelda’s exasperated sigh suddenly floated to the forefront of his mind. Right. He was supposed to be here as a diplomat, not a tourist. They’d had that talk… more than once. He rubbed the back of his neck and offered the zora prince a sheepish half smile.

If the way Sidon’s face split into a grin and the slight sway of his tail was anything to go by it was safe to say the prince hadn’t taken offense. In all honesty Link had a hard time imagining him getting offended over anything- the man was a ray of sunshine wrapped in scales. And teeth. The prince stepped to the side and waved their little group in with a flourish.

Link fell behind the small expedition almost immediately upon entering Zora’s Domain, stopping in the central plaza to silently greet Mipha’s statue. Though the pain and confusion of her passing had finally begun to ease over the long years since he’d awoken, thanks in no small part to the comfort and support he found in both Zelda and his frequent correspondences with Sidon, he still liked to make time for this small tradition. It would feel _wrong_ to walk past her memorial without paying his respect, like she was worth no more than the stone she was carved from.

(While he didn’t remember everything, what fragments he could piece together of her, of him, of what they were and what they might have been, was more than enough to know that she was- she had been- worth more than all the stars in the sky.)

He was drawn from his thoughts by the weight of a large hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He glanced up in time to catch the look prince Sidon cast up at Mipha’s statue, fond and gentle. Sidon always seemed softer near his sister. The moment passed in less then a heartbeat, the prince shifting his gaze down to his most treasured friend with a toothy grin and squeezed Link’s shoulder.

       “It is so good to see you, my friend! It has been far too long since last we spoke. How long are you planning on staying? A couple of days, perhaps? Surely you must need the rest after such a long and arduous journey.”

Link was already shaking his head before Sidon had finished.

_-Just here for the night. We have to head out again tomorrow morning-_ Link quickly continued, spurred on by the almost imperceptible dip of disappointment in his friend’s shoulders. _-We still have one more divine beast to go and we’re shooting to get back to the capital by the end of April-_ He puffed his chest out. _-The princess needs her big, strapping, Hero of Legend to show the dainty common folk how to dance the Maypole-_

       “Ah yes, of course, duty calls.” Sidon pulled his hand away from Link’s shoulder to fold it respectfully behind his back, his gaze drifting back up to his sister’s visage. There was a pregnant pause before the prince continued in a too-casual tone. “While I’ve no doubt that would be a sight to behold, my friend, I feel if I were in the princess’ place I would do what I could to minimize the chance of a tripping hazard instead of setting one lose to run amok and terrorize my good people.”

The prince’s carefully schooled neutral expression cracked into a grin at the way Link puffed his cheeks and firmly planted his fists on his hips.

       “Oh Link, you know you are my dearest friend and you are truly exceptional in so many ways,” He turned to meet Link’s pout face on. “But a dancer, you are not.”

_-So I take some artistic liberties-_

       "The same sort of artistic liberties a bear takes with a beehive.”

Link stopped mid sign, both eyebrows raising in mock offense. His hands hovered for a moment, debating a proper comeback, before settling on shaping the simple letters.

_\- R U D E-_

Sidon laughed warmly and clapped a hand solidly against his much smaller friend’s back, the other loosely waving Link towards the inn.

       “All joking aside, it is wonderful to have you back in the Domain. As much as I would love to hog your time, I’m sure you must be eager to freshen up before meeting with the council. I do hope we’ll be able to find the time to properly chat before you make your leave. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish to push but, I must admit, I am simply dying to know more of your adventures these past months!”

Link hummed his agreement. It had been a while since they’d last gotten a chance to catch up, the hero’s globetrotting making their usual letter correspondences too difficult to maintain over the winter. Sharing the expedition highlights with the prince now would save his poor wrist from having to scrawl it all out in a letter later.

(Besides, Sidon was one of the best audience’s a person could ask for- he asked the right questions at the right times and gasped in all of the appropriately dramatic places.)

_-We can head out to the usual spot once we finish with the council-_

       “Hmm, I would love to, my friend, but I heard a rumor that the innkeeper hurried off to buy every grain of rice in the Coral Reef as soon as she caught wind of your return.” Sidon tapped his chin with one long, curved claw. “And, if I heard properly, I do believe her daughter mentioned something about ‘seafood paella’ while I was making my rounds earlier.”

Link didn’t bother to hide the flush of excitement that made his eyes widen with delight. Kodah was making _seafood paella?_ Bless her beautiful heart.

       “Far be it from me to interfere with your dinner plans.” The prince chirped with a grin, clearly pleased with Link’s reaction. He pulled away to make his way towards the stairs, most likely to join his father in the throne room to help prepare for the meeting with the sheikah scientists. He turned back to meet the hylian’s gaze once more, bright gold eyes warm with something soft and fond. “If you do have a spare moment though, perhaps before you head out in the morning, you know where to find me.”

Link nodded as he turned to make his way to the inn. He paused mid-step and twirled to face the prince’s back.

       “Prince Sidon!”

The zora whipped his head around to fix Link with a shocked look- not that the hylian could blame him, sometimes the sound of his voice surprised him too.

_-I have something for you-_ Link couldn’t fight the wicked grin that bloomed across his face at the surprised little _“Oh!”_ that escaped the normally regal red zora.

       “Your generosity knows no bounds, my friend!” Sidon’s face split into a toothy smile, both hands fisting and shoulders bunching like they always did when the zora was excited. Link wondered if he had picked up the habit when he was a child. (He seemed like he would have been a cute kid, Link wished he could remember.) “I’ll look forward to it!” The delicate fins on his arms fanned slightly, a quick flicker of brilliant blue as he nodded his goodbye to his closest friend. 

Link tucked a wisp of hair behind his ear and waved before spinning on his heel and finally making his way to the Seabed Inn.

He waved a greeting to little Finley who gave him a flat look in return, her clever gaze flicking from the zora prince to the hylian champion. Kodah really must be busy if she managed to convince her small, serious daughter to stand by the door as the greeter. Typically the quiet young zora much prefered to help her father in the back where she wouldn’t be expected to talk to visitors.

_-Have you grown since last time I was here?-_

       “Have you?” 

Link clutched his chest with a soft, dramatic _“Ah!” -You’re going to make me cry-_

       “Please don’t.” Finley’s face finally cracked into a small grin as she huffed softly and planted one hand on her hip. “I would hope the first boy I make cry is a lot prettier than you.”

_-You sound more like your mom every day-_

       “I learned from the best. Speaking of mom, you should get in there and help before she burns the place down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) "Many hands make light work" is not, in fact a zora saying. It's a John Heywood saying.  
> 2) So... these chapters seems to be getting longer and longer... this isn't everything I had plotted out to happen in this chapter but it's already over 4k words ಥ_ಥ So I decided to cut it off here to set up for a (hopefully) less awkward transition into Council Time. At least Link got to spend some time with his giant bf (which at this point just means Buff Friend).  
> 3) May was kind of a write off for me, and for that I apologize, but I feel I should be able to keep up with a monthly posting schedule from here on out? Probably? So yay?  
> 4) And, as always, thanks for reading & have a lovely day :)


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